


A Matching Set

by garbage_dono



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alpha Lotor (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Injury, M/M, Omega Keith (Voltron), Sexual Tension, Sparring, discussions of consent, first heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 15:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbage_dono/pseuds/garbage_dono
Summary: Keith is adjusting, slowly but surely, to living life as one of the Galra and as a Blade of Marmora. But the more he learns, it seems the less he understands. But Lotor is different. A hybrid. Like him. Keith begins to wonder whether perhaps Lotor understands him better than he ever thought possible.That understanding is tested - for better or for worse - when Keith's first heat takes him by surprise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally it's time to post my piece for the [2018 Keitor Big Bang](https://keitorbigbang.tumblr.com/)! Thanks much to the artist I worked with for this event, [tried2](http://tried2.tumblr.com/)! :)

Hot.

He was so damn _hot._

It was like the worst fever he’d ever had got together with Phoenix, Arizona in July and sent him flying straight into the surface of the sun. A savage kind of heat that was eating him from the inside out. It left his mind foggy and his body limp, until he couldn’t do anything but groan as someone – probably Shiro, judging from the metal digging into the back of his knee – picked him up off the floor.

Someone was talking. Several someones. Familiar voices. But they sounded far away and muted, like he was listening to them through water.

“He looks like death.” Pidge said, or at least he thought it was Pidge. She sounded concerned, though if he looked half as bad as he felt, that wasn’t surprising.

“He’s dripping everywhere,” Lance added. No shit. He felt like he’d just stepped out of the shower. Then again, maybe he had – he vaguely remembered trying to cool himself off with a frigid blast of water. Not that it had helped much.

Oh God, he hoped he wasn’t naked. Was he naked? He couldn’t even tell.

“It wasn’t dinner, was it?” Hunk asked. Come to think of it, he didn’t even remember eating. His stomach churned.

“Everyone just give him some space.” That was…Kolivan? Finally, Keith forced his eyes open. Mistake. Big mistake – everything was swimming in front of him, wobbling like he was stuck in a broken kaleidoscope and making him even more nauseous. But he managed to catch a glimpse of Kolivan, his brow furrowed (more than usual) as he looked him over.

He opened his mouth and tried to speak. Another mistake – his throat burned so badly that it almost made tears spring to his eyes. “Ko…li…”

Kolivan’s eyes locked with his, and his expression softened, albeit only a tiny bit. “Easy there, pup,” he said. “You’ll be fine. You’re in heat.”

What the _fuck,_ Keith thought, before puking on Shiro’s shoes and blacking out.

* * *

He woke up again feeling better in some ways, and about a thousand times worse in others. At least the nausea had died down, but his skin felt like it was on fire, and the room was spinning around him. His vision blurred as he tried to make out the figure in front of him, but his eyes wouldn’t focus.

“He’s coming around,” someone said quietly, outside his field of vision. Turning his head was out of the question – it only made the dizziness worse. But it sounded like Matt.

He opened his mouth to try and speak again, but nothing came out except a pained groan. His throat was parched, burning just like the rest of him. “Don’t try and speak,” Kolivan insisted. He still couldn’t make out the blurry figure standing over him, but he would know that voice anywhere. “This is the worst of it. Do you know where you are?”

Not the Blade ship. He knew that much. His memory was hazy, but he remembered coming aboard the Castle before all this. A meeting – an important one, but he couldn’t focus his thoughts long enough to recall what it was about. But as raw as his throat was, he couldn’t hope to get out a single word, let alone all the questions that were flooding his brain.

Instead, he just nodded, weakly.

“Good,” Kolivan said, and a moment later, something cool and damp was being pressed against his forehead. Kolivan looked up at someone standing outside Keith’s field of view. “Leave us alone…keep the lights dim and the room quiet.”

“Right,” said Matt. “He’s…gonna be okay, right?”

“Just go.”

“Okay, okay…”

A door opened, closed, and they were alone.

Kolivan sighed. “I should have told you sooner.” He pressed the cloth against Keith’s forehead again. “Should have prepared you…I never realized you wouldn’t know.”

He didn’t care if it hurt like hell – he had to get some words out. “H…hot…”

“It will pass,” was all Kolivan said.

“Feel like shit…” Keith managed to force out.

Kolivan frowned and repeated it again, more forcefully: “It will pass.”

He sure hoped so, because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He’d had worse pain, but something about it felt visceral, uncontrollable, leaving him at his mercy and making him feel completely helpless. Like he had not choice but to submit to the heat.

The door opened again, and Keith didn’t have the resolve to open his eyes to look – for all the good it would do anyway – but he did hear Kolivan stand up beside him. “Is it true?” another voice asked, “Is he really in heat?”

That wasn’t Kolivan’s voice – it was smoother, sharper. Tinged with the same accent that Allura spoke with…

Oh. _That_ was what their meeting was supposed to be about. The newly crowned emperor of the Galra.

Duh.

“What are you doing here?” Kolivan growled, and a moment after Keith heard those words, the _scent_ hit him. It was sweet, spicy, warm, like hot apple cider tinged with cinnamon and cloves. Somehow it drove up the temperature of his skin until he was sure he was about to ignite the entire damn ship, and his eyes flew open just in time to lock with Lotor’s.

“Whoa,” he breathed. His vision was clear now, and Lotor was staring at him in a way he’d never seen before. Like he couldn’t look away.

“My goddess,” Lotor said. “It really is true.” He turned to Kolivan. “Just how long as he been in heat?”

“It isn’t your concern,” Kolivan insisted, and he stepped between them, blocking Keith’s view of Lotor. Something in him protested, and before he realized he was doing it, he craned his neck to try and catch another glimpse of those eyes again. “Get out, Lotor. He doesn’t need an alpha like you anywhere near him now.”

Lotor scoffed. “You don’t really think I’m going to take him, do you? I’m not an insatiable monster at the whim of my own hormones.” He sighed. “I could probably help more than anyone else on this ship. Unless you plan on enlisting the Blade of Marmora to babysit this pup.”

The silence that fell between them was almost stifling, though maybe the heat throbbing through every inch of Keith’s body had more to do with it. “He doesn’t need your help,” Kolivan insisted again, and when he moved, Keith saw a shock of white hair as Lotor turned and shrugged.

“If you insist,” Lotor said.

“No…” Keith rasped, and Lotor turned to look at him again with a smirk.

“Oh – looks like he’d prefer I stay.”

“ _Out,_ ” Kolivan barked.

Keith watched him go, the scent receding with him. He couldn’t help missing it, but Kolivan’s face filled his vision again. “He’s dangerous,” he said.

“Kolivan…” Keith swallowed and forced the words out despite Kolivan’s warnings to stay quiet. “What the hell is going on with me?” Kolivan opened his mouth to speak. “And _don’t_ just tell me ‘it will pass.’”

Kolivan closed his mouth again.

“ _Kolivan._ ”

“You need to stay quiet,” he insisted. “Save your strength. I’ll explain, when this is all over. But if I tried to now, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” He let out a long breath from his nose, pressing the cool cloth in his hand against Keith’s temple again. It felt like ice against his flushed skin and made him shiver.

That scent was completely gone now, and Keith shook his head. His limbs were painfully heavy, but he reached up and grabbed Kolivan’s wrist. “No…tell me. My skin is on fire, I feel like I’m dying, and that _smell_ -“

“What smell?” Kolivan asked, suddenly leaning forward.

Keith swallowed against the sandpaper feeling in his throat, feeling ridiculous. “Lotor…”

The cloth pulled back from his face, Kolivan holding it in a tight fist as he frowned. “He’s an alpha,” he finally said. “And he’s _dangerous._ Especially now.” When he reached forward to press the cloth against his face again, Keith wanted to push it away, but his arms were too weak, so he let them fall to his sides.

“I puked on Shiro…” he groaned as the memory came back, and he swore he heard Kolivan make a sound that was dangerously close to a laugh.

“I’m sure he won’t hold a grudge.”

* * *

“Soooo…was Kolivan right earlier?” Lance asked, breaking the silence that had hung in the air for a few moments too long to be comfortable. “Is Keith…in heat? Like _heat_ heat? Like a dog or something?”

“I don’t see any reason for him to be wrong about that,” Pidge offered. “He probably knows more about Galra biology than anyone else here. You know, since he is one.”

Hunk grimaced. “I dunno, that ‘heat’ thing looks an awful lot like food poisoning to me. Sure he didn’t just eat some weird food in the Blade of Marmora cafeteria?”

“It’s not food poisoning,” Matt insisted. “I took some scans earlier – Keith’s biology is _crazy._ Probably even crazier than I saw before Kolivan kicked me out…”

“He kicked you out?” Pidge asked.

Lance patted him on the arm. “Don’t take it personally. The guy is wound tighter than a guitar string. I’m not surprised his bedside manner isn’t all that great. Come to think of it, it’s kinda weird…picturing him playing nurse in there.”

Lotor sighed as he massaged the bridge of his nose. That sickly sweet omega scent was still clinging to him and making his head ache. And listening to them talk was making it even worse. “You can’t exactly blame him for being cautious,” he finally said. “A newly presented omega can be a dangerous thing.”

All eyes turned toward him, unsurprisingly. It seemed like he’d made a habit out of being the center of attention lately. Not that he minded…

“Omega what-now?” Hunk asked. “Are you talking about Keith?”

“You haven’t already forgotten that he isn’t entirely human, have you?” Lotor sighed. “He’s as much Galra as I am, biologically at least. Though I’m betting that Kolivan never expected him to present as an omega. He certainly doesn’t seem to have the usual temperament.”

“Yeah…I’m still not following,” Lance groaned. “What the heck is an omega and what does that have to do with him puking on Shiro’s shoes?”

“It has to do with a lot more than that,” Lotor told him. “Keith is what’s called an omega, and a rather…potent one at that.” He felt a shiver run down to his fingertips, remembering that damn cloyingly sweet scent…

“Uh…gross,” Pidge said with a grimace, and Lotor shook himself out of his own thoughts. Filthy as they were, it was probably for the best.

How could he expect them to understand? Humans…so attached to their idea of gender and what it meant for their biological fates. He’d never understood it. He doubted he ever would. “Omegas are rare in the Galra race, but invaluable – no other Galra are able to bear pups.”

The way they stared at him in the silence that followed, he may as well have said that he was planning to fly the castle into a supernova and ride the resulting debris across the shockwave.

“ _Pups?_ ” Matt sputtered. “As in _babies?_ As in _Galra babies?_ ”

Maybe trying to explain all this was a mistake. And now a headache was brewing behind his temples on top of everything else. “Yes,” he spat, “Pups. Galra pups. But I wouldn’t worry about that – there’s no telling if he’s actually fertile, and even if he is, it isn’t as if he has a mate.”

Not that he would mind filling that open position, that obnoxious little voice in Lotor’s head added. He resisted the urge to claw at his own skull to shut it up. “And as for Kolivan playing _nurse,_ ” he added, “I doubt he’ll let anyone in this castle anywhere near Keith in his state. You’d be surprised how protective omegas can be of their own-“

“Lotor.”

He hadn’t even heard the door opening behind them, but all eyes turned toward the voice as Lotor spun on one heel to face it. “Ah…Princess.”

Allura didn’t return his smile – her brow pinched with worry so deeply that it almost rivaled Kolivan’s expression beside her. If that was even possible. “Kolivan was just explaining…is it true? Is Keith…”

Lotor nodded, ignoring the feeling of the paladins’ eyes boring into the back of his skull. “It certainly seems that way.”

“I never thought it was possible,” Coran sighed. “Well…I suppose it was always _possible._ He is half Galra, after all…”

“No matter how improbable or inconvenient, the fact remains that Keith has obviously presented as an omega,” Kolivan said, a deep frown etching itself into his face. “What matters now is that he stays safe…from anyone who might try to take advantage.”

Kolivan’s eyes were on him – Lotor didn’t even have to look to know that was true. He didn’t take it personally, or at least he tried very hard not to. He couldn’t help that he’d been born an alpha any more that Keith could help presenting as an omega now. Still, he did have _some_ self-control. A good amount of it, actually. If he were anything like the mindless, grunting alphas that roamed the more corrupt corners of their race, he could have subdued Kolivan in the medical bay and taken Keith right then and there.

But he wasn’t that kind of alpha. He had dignity and enough of a mind to keep his urges in check. “I’m sure nobody has any plans to take advantage of Keith in his…fragile state.” Kolivan bristled a little at that, and Lotor held his gaze. “Least of all me.”

“I’d hope not,” Kolivan growled. “If you all will excuse me…I should go and tend to him. And I’m sure you’ll understand that it would be best that he’s undisturbed.”

Just like that, he was gone again, and the room was silent except for the hiss of the doors closing behind him. “See?” Lance finally said, “Wound tighter than ever.”

“He cares about Keith,” Allura said with a sigh. “In the meantime, we’ll just have to carry on without the two of them. We can fill in the Blade later, but for now, there is still plenty to discuss.”

That was a relief, though he tried not to let it show. At least now he wouldn’t have to spend more time answering probing questions about the intricacies of Galra mating cycles. He had far better things to do.

And if he was honest with himself, he welcomed the distraction.

* * *

Keith had no idea how much time passed while he was out. He wasn’t even sure if he’d been asleep or if Kolivan had given him something to knock him unconscious. He would have appreciated that, because the fever and cramping was starting to give way to all sorts of other things that were driving him crazy.

Not to mention chipping away the last of his dignity. Never in a thousand years had he ever thought he would be frantically humping a pillow while Kolivan stood less than five feet away.

He barely even realized he was doing it. His head was swimming, his body _screaming_ for relief so intensely that sitting still wasn’t an option. If he managed to think straight for long enough to stop, even for just a few seconds, his guts felt like they were about to cave in on themselves until he started jerking his hips again in a futile search for friction.

Not that it did anything; in fact, it seemed to be making it a hell of a lot worse. He’d never been so desperate, so damn _horny_ in his life. It was enough to make him feel drunk – sloppy drunk, _mortifying_ drunk. The kind of drunk that would have made him seek out a new identity when he came to the morning after.

But Kolivan was barely phased. He looked on, stone-faced as he took Keith’s wrist. “You should change your clothes,” he said. “And the sheets.”

Keith whimpered, pressing his face against the pillow and shaking his head. “Make it stop,” he croaked. The voice sounded nothing like his: weak and raspy, sweat mixing with tears on his cheeks. “Give me something…to make it stop…”

“I can’t,” Kolivan sighed. “Believe me, I know what you’re feeling, but there’s nothing that can stop it. You’ll just have to come out the other side of it when it’s over.”

When Keith turned his head to look at him, one cheek still pressed hard against the damp pillow, Kolivan looked more sympathetic than he’d ever seen him. But sympathy got him nothing, and it did even less to stop the throbbing ache in his stomach. He pressed his face against the pillows again, groaning.

In one fleeting moment of lucidity, he realized how ridiculous he must look, thrusting against a flattened pillow right in front of his commanding officer. Maybe he would get lucky and be too out of it to remember any of this when it was all over.

He gasped against the sheets. “I need…I…I need…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t fill in the blank with anything that would stop this.

Kolivan’s hand was on him again, this time on his back. “I know,” he said, softer this time. “I know, Keith. He sighed. “It will pass.”

God _dammit,_ Keith hated that phrase.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, not quite awake, but only half asleep. He could still hear Kolivan’s muted movements whenever he grabbed a cloth to wipe of Keith’s brow or brought him water that he _insisted_ he try and drink. More than that, Keith could _smell_ him – the scent drifted away whenever Kolivan moved farther from him and got stronger when he was close. He couldn’t explain it, but it was strangely comforting in a way, even if it did next to nothing to help the hollow, aching emptiness that was getting more and more unbearable with every passing second.

Kolivan insisted it would pass but didn’t say a word about just _how long_ it would be before it did. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to say. Keith wasn’t sure which would frustrate him more.

He must have passed out again at some point, because when he opened his eyes the lights were dim, and the castle was quiet, a tell-tale sign that they’d entered the ship’s night cycle. The low light was soothing and made him feel safe, so that was a relief, at least. Kolivan was nowhere to be seen, at least for the moment.

His throat was parched, though, and – God, had he wet himself? It felt like it…that didn’t seem like sweat between his legs. He groaned, covering his face. How much more dignity could he stand to lose?

He _refused_ to sit around in his own mess and wait for Kolivan to come clean him up. Even if his head was still too fogged over to do much of anything, he still had a shred of pride left. So he mustered up his strength and hauled himself up off the bed. Damn, his legs were like overcooked noodles, barely strong enough to support his weight, let alone walk. He held himself up against the side of the bed as best he could, drawing in carefully measured breaths as sweat beaded on his temples.

In…out…in…out…he’d pushed through much worse muscle pain during training. He could walk to the bathroom himself, dammit. Finally, he managed to straighten up and take a step. Then another, and another, until he was halfway out the door.

Maybe the exercise got his blood flowing again, or maybe it was the waft of fresh (constantly circulated through the ventilation system, but as “fresh” as they could get in deep space) air that hit him as he stepped out into the hall, but his head started to clear. At least enough for him to work out which way the bathroom was.

Now it was just a matter of getting there. He’d made it this far. A few more feet wouldn’t kill him.

His legs had other plans, though.

Two steps outside the medical bay (give or take – he wasn’t masochistic enough to try and count) his strength gave out, and his leg locked up, quivered, and collapsed underneath him. He fell to the unforgiving metal floor in an undignified heap, groaning as he tried and failed to push himself back up again.

He felt more than he heard the approaching footsteps. Damn – Kolivan was going to chew him out for trying to leave on his own. The last thing he needed was a lecture on top of the whole…soiling himself problem. He didn’t even want to think about how that conversation would go.

But then it hit him – that smell. Not Kolivan’s, but still familiar. It was hot, spicy, tingled in his nostrils and sent a shiver down his spine, and suddenly that throbbing in the pit of his stomach was back full force and he had to stop himself from trying to rut against the floor.

A pair of boots entered his line of sighted, and then he was being lifted off the floor. The smell was so strong he felt like he was going to pass out right then and there. Maybe that would be better – it would sure be less mortifying than knowing that Lotor could absolutely, without question, see the hard-on he was sporting under his robe.

“It’s not a good idea for an omega in full heat to wander the halls alone,” Lotor said. He wondered if those words were supposed to sound menacing…they easily could have, but Lotor was laying him back down in bed as he spoke.

The second Lotor’s hands left him, Keith whimpered. He wasn’t proud of it, but it happened.

“Needed…” he forced out. How was he supposed to admit the truth to _Lotor,_ of all people? He couldn’t even get the words out…not with that that scent wafting through his nostrils. “My…I…” He groaned. “Fuck, I think I pissed myself…”

Lotor visibly stiffened, his eyes closing as he clenched his fists. “No,” he grunted. “You didn’t.”

“But I-“

“You didn’t,” he said again. He drew in a deep breath, in through his nose, and Keith swore he saw him shiver. “It’s normal…when you’re in heat.”

Keith could feel his breath against his skin, and it made his heart race. Damn, he smelled good…and his voice was smooth and powerful…he’d picked him up so easily, like he didn’t weigh a thing. One word that Kolivan had said earlier stuck out in his mind: _Alpha._

When Lotor went to pull away, Keith reached for him and held him there. “Stay,” he insisted, his thoughts swirling in his mind until they were incomprehensible, all focused on the heat of Lotor’s body, the smell of him. “Stay here…alpha.”

Lotor gulped. “I can’t.”

“I need…I need something…I don’t know what, but I feel like…you can give it to me…” He tugged Lotor closer. He could have pulled away if he tried, could have ripped his arm out of Keith’s grip easily. But Lotor let him pull him in. Let him get a long, deep whiff of his scent. “Please…”

“You’re in heat,” he said, like that was news to him. Like he wasn’t already _painfully_ aware. “You might not understand…but you can’t want this. Not really.” But he still let Keith hold him closer. In fact, he leaned in, pressed his nose against the crook of Keith’s neck and breathed deep. He let the breath out in a long sigh, almost a hiss, and Keith felt the points of his teeth against his collarbone. “No matter how…incredible you may smell…I’d never…”

Keith couldn’t do anything but whimper, pride be damned. The smell was intoxicating, made him feel so high that he couldn’t do anything except seek out even _more_ of it. “Need you,” he sighed, and Lotor’s tongue flicked against his skin as he licked his lips.

But then a second later, Lotor pulled away. No matter how much Keith protested, no matter how undignified he sounded as he called his name, Lotor headed straight for the door. All too soon, it was closed behind him, and Lotor was gone, along with all but a lingering waft of his addictive scent.

Keith groaned and buried his face in the pillow again.


	2. Chapter 2

It took two days for Keith to come out of his heat. Two days of dizziness, sweating, cramping, nausea, and unquenchable horniness. Two days of Kolivan forcing him to drink, cleaning him, telling him over and over that _it would pass._ Two days of craving Lotor’s scent, touch, voice, _anything._

After those two days, he still felt like hell. Like he had the worst hangover of his life. But there wasn’t any time to sit and wallow in it. They were already overdue to return to the Blade.

Thank _God,_ because the sooner they got back to headquarters, the sooner he could throw himself into his next mission and forget this ever happened. He and Kolivan wouldn’t have to _talk_ about it. And neither would anyone in the castle.

That didn’t mean they didn’t try though. When he emerged the first morning after the fever broke and he was able to shower, all conversation stopped, and all eyes were on him.

It was just like when he’d found out he was Galra. He felt like a freak all over again.

Lance was the one to break the silence: “He lives!”

“He does,” Keith sighed as he grabbed the nearest bowl of breakfast goo and sat down, avoiding every pair of eyes that was locked on him. He ate despite the fact that he wasn’t hungry. It gave him something to do besides talk.

Allura smiled at him from across the table. “We’re all very glad you’re…feeling well again, Keith.”

“Yeah, we were all pretty worried when you passed out in the hall and puked on Shiro.” Pidge said, and Keith halfway choked on his first bite of breakfast.

“Uh…right…sorry about that, Shiro…”

“Don’t worry about it – not the first time I’ve gotten puked on,” Shiro promised him with a smile.

Keith looked around at them all, watching as they made a big show of eating and talking about things that didn’t involve him and his freakish alien biology. They were trying, at least. He swallowed a thick mouthful of goo and blurted, “Where’s Lotor?”

He regretted it the second he said it, his face heating up as Allura’s face fell. “He…went back to his ship,” she said. “Rather unexpectedly too. Said there was some emergency he had to tend to.”

“He did seem to have a bloothar in his bonnet about something,” Coran mused. “He seemed like he was in quite the hurry.”

Keith stared at his bowl, feeling sick all over again. He only remembered bits and pieces, all jumbled together like a fever dream. Maybe it was a dream…he prayed it was. But he had a sinking feeling that it was real. The things he’d said, the things he’d _begged for,_ from Lotor of all people…all he wanted was to dive into this bowl of food goo and hide in it until he forgot every second of that miserable heat.

“Uh…you okay Keith?” Hunk asked him. “You look like me after a rough day on the flight simulator.” He frowned. “If you’re gonna puke, can you do it somewhere other than the table? We eat here.”

“I’m not gonna puke,” he insisted. He was about…ninety percent sure anyway. “I’m just…still tired.”

“Heat take a lot out of you, huh?” Lance asked with a quiet laugh.

It was a joke. That was what Lance did. He joked. He lightened the mood. Keith should have let it roll off of him like water. Should have let it drop. Should have shrugged and accepted that he was just trying to ease the tension.

He didn’t.

He slammed his fists down on the table hard enough to knock his bowl over. “This isn’t funny, Lance!”

Everyone went quiet. Silent. And all eyes were on him again.

“Dude,” Lance said, voice carefully measured in a way that it rarely was. “I never said it was.”

Keith swallowed. “Right…” He pulled his hands into his lap, his face turning redder than ever. “R-right…sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Allura told him quietly. “What you’ve been through…I’m sure it was scary and difficult to understand. There’s no shame in being unsure of how to feel about it.”

“I know how I feel,” he said. “I know it sucked, and I never want it to happen again.” He stood up from the table, shaking his head, like somehow that would rattle everything back into place in there. Maybe it would loosen up some of the stubborn memories of how Lotor’s breath felt against his neck too, because he did _not_ need those floating around in there unchecked. “Kolivan is gonna be waiting for me in the hangar. I should go.”

“Now?” Hunk asked, frowning. “Already?”

“Yeah, now.” He headed for the door. “Thanks for breakfast.”

It was better this way. They couldn’t possibly understand what was going on. He didn’t expect them to. He didn’t blame them for it. They were trying. But a stubborn, selfish part of him wished that they didn’t have to try so damn _hard._

“Hey.”

He was halfway down the hall when he heard the voice behind him, already well out of earshot from the dining room. He stopped, turned on his heel, faced the owner. “Shiro?”

“You seemed like you were in kind of a hurry to get out of here,” Shiro offered with a small shrug.

“I told you, Kolivan-“

But Shiro held up a hand. “I know. But…I also know you probably want to get out of here, and I’m not gonna stop you.” He sighed, stepping closer and dropping his voice lower. “Look, I understand if you’re embarrassed and frustrated by all this. It has to be strange, going through something like this out of nowhere…”

“Strange is one word for it…” Keith muttered, face flushing.

“We were all worried,” Shiro told him, a hand on his shoulder now. “We all worry about you. We’re your friends, Keith.” He smiled. “And we want to help any way we can.”

Keith wanted more than anything for it to reassure him, for it to make him feel better. Shiro was good at that kind of thing, finding the right words for any situation. At least he usually was. But Keith wasn’t so sure there were _any_ right words for this one. And the ones that Shiro came up with felt…empty somehow.

Shiro knew how it felt to have things taken from him, how it felt to be an outcast, how it felt to be terrified of letting down the team. But one thing Shiro didn’t know – could never know – was how it felt to have a body that felt more alien by the day. An arm, sure, but not a whole body. Not parts integral enough to turn his life upside-down with a single hormonal trigger. Shiro was human. He’d always been human. He would always be human. And Shiro couldn’t understand how it felt to be anything other than human. Keith could never ask him to try.

Keith tried to offer his own smile in return. It was hollow, and Shiro knew it. But he tried. “Thanks,” Keith told him. “I should…still get going. Tell everyone I’ll keep in touch.”

That was another thing he had no right to ask Shiro to do: lie to his team.

* * *

The trip back to the Blade of Marmora headquarters was painfully silent, but Keith didn’t bother trying to change it. There wasn’t much to talk about besides the elephant in the room, and that was the last subject he wanted to get into now. Or ever. He would gladly let it go completely unacknowledged for the rest of his life.

But just as the Blade ship came into view again, Kolivan said, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He seemed to be anything but excited to initiate the conversation. Like he felt obligated. Keith shrugged. “I’m not ashamed.”

“You are.” Kolivan looked back at him. “You are not good at masking your emotions, Keith.”

And Kolivan’s many skills did not include sincere heart-to-hearts, but Keith kept that thought to himself.

“I just wish I’d known what to expect,” he said instead. “Not like I had anyone around to tell me I might have to deal with Galra puberty one day on top of the human one.”

“If I’d realized you were an omega, I would have…” He sighed instead of finishing the sentence. Would have what? Sat him down and had a talk with him about the Galra equivalent of the birds and the bees? Somehow Keith couldn’t picture that, no matter how hard he tried. “You are not the first omega to join the Blade,” Kolivan finished instead. “And you are not the first in its ranks now.”

Something in the way Kolivan looked at him drove the point home after just a few drawn out beats, and Keith’s eyes went wide. “You’re…”

Kolivan didn’t say anything – instead he turned to face front again as they docked on the Blade ship. “Don’t let this affect your focus,” he said. “It’s a part of who you are. Part of your life. Nothing more.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean. Keith mulled it over in silence as they docked, and Kolivan didn’t say another word. It was hard to believe he was the same person who’d looked after him so attentively when he was feverish and deliriously humping a pillow (God, he wished he could forget that part, but no such luck).

But he was right. He didn’t need to overthink this. He didn’t _want_ to overthink it.

He was two steps into the hangar when Krolia knocked the wind out of him. She held him so tightly to her chest he would have thought he’d almost died on that castle. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed. “I didn’t realize – I had no idea you’d be…” She sighed as she pulled away, looking at him with a deep furrow between her brows. “You must have been so confused. I should have told you…”

Kolivan had already headed straight for the command deck, but hadn’t given him any orders to follow. They’d probably come later, but for now he was alone with his mother. “Kolivan told you what happened?” he asked, and he was _sure_ his cheeks were turning obnoxiously pink.

“He did…I wanted to come straight to that castle myself, but you know how he is. He insisted I let him handle it.” She scoffed. “He’s lucky he’s one of the few people I’d trust enough with that, or I would have commandeered this whole ship to get to you before he had time to blink.”

That got a laugh out of Keith. Somehow, she made the idea seem a few steps down from completely insane. “It just…took me by surprise…”

She wasn’t convinced. “You had no idea what was happening, did you?” she asked him softly.

He couldn’t stand the guilt that was written on her face, deepening every crease in her brow and pulling the corners of her mouth down with every passing second. When he shook his head, she held a hand to her face. “I should have told you,” she said again. “I didn’t know you’d present as an omega. I didn’t know you’d present at all – there just wasn’t time…”

“Mom.” She looked up at him again, like the word sounded foreign to her. It felt strange to say it too. “It’s okay,” he insisted. “Really. Just…trying to process it. I thought I understood what it meant to be part Galra, but now I have even more questions than ever…”

She smiled at him and took his hand. “Questions, I can handle.”

They made their way to the infirmary – “Don’t try and talk your way out of an exam,” Krolia chastised him when he started to protest. “Kolivan insisted, and so do I.” – and Keith fought the urge to fidget as the computer hummed and whirred. The scanning ring glowed a deep purple, moving over every inch of his body, and he tracked it with his gaze. It was hard to ignore the strange anxious flip in the pit of his stomach when it paused for a moment over his lower belly.

“What does it mean?” he asked as the ring continued down his legs. It reached his feet and dissipated with a soft beep. “If I’m an…omega. How is that different from what I was before?”

Krolia’s gaze was fixed on the screen in front of her, but she glanced up at him for one moment and held his eye before the results of the scan drew her attention again. “Well, you’ve always been an omega. It’s just been…latent until now.”

“So it really is like a Galra puberty, huh?” he groaned.

She laughed. “A little. Sorry…can’t help what’s in your genes.”

No, he guessed he couldn’t. No more than anyone else. “Kolivan said he was an omega…or I think he did anyway.”

“He is,” she said with a nod, as casually as if she were telling him the weather. “He doesn’t hide it. Doesn’t advertise it either.” She looked at him again. “I am too. So it’s not too surprising that you took after me…”

“What’s the big deal? Kolivan made it seem like I was so vulnerable and fragile…keeping everyone away, like they were gonna…try and hurt me.”

Krolia frowned, moved the screen away and pulled him to sit down next to her on the examination table. “It’s complicated,” she admitted. “Omegas and alphas…I had a hard enough time trying to explain it to your father…” A tiny laugh escaped her, more like a sigh, and she clasped her hands over her knees. “Omegas are valuable. Many in the empire…they viewed us as resources more than people. Zarkon included.”

“Valuable…” Keith repeated, his stomach tying itself up in knots as he scratched at the edge of the cot. “Why…what’s so valuable about omegas?”

Krolia held his gaze as she said, “We’re the only Galra who are capable of carrying pups.”

Keith swallowed. “We?”

“You are an omega, Keith,” she said softly. “You may only be half Galra, so there’s no telling whether you could actually…” She stopped, her expression softening as she put a hand on his arm. “It’s alright. It’s a lot to take in. I understand.” She smiled a bit. “Things are looking up, at least. I’ll give credit where it’s due – Lotor may be an alpha, but he’s nowhere near as small-minded as his father. For the moment, at least, his being emperor of the Galra empire may be a blessing in more ways than one.”

It was supposed to make him feel better, but his mouth went dry. She must have noticed, because her smile faded as she looked at him. “Keith? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t even sound convincing to his own ears, and Krolia looked anything but convinced.

“Don’t lie to me,” she insisted. “You were on that ship with Lotor when your heat hit.” Her eyes went wide. “Did he…did something happen-“

“No!” The word burst out of him before he could stop it. “No…no, it’s not…it’s not like that. He didn’t do anything. But I…” He tried to swallow, but it felt like his mouth was full of cotton. “It was all so much…the feelings, the…the _smells…_ I…I wanted him to…” He felt ashamed, disgusted with himself as he spoke. He couldn’t look at her. “I wanted him…more than anything…I couldn’t control it…”

“Keith.” Krolia’s hand squeezed his, and he finally looked up at her again. His vision was blurry, his eyes stinging with tears that he didn’t even remember allowing to fall. “Keith…” she said again, softer this time. “It’s normal. What you felt. What you might still be feeling…it’s normal. I promise you.”

Normal? He wondered if that were possible. He wondered if _any_ of this would ever feel normal to him. To a Galra – a full Galra – maybe. But how could heats ever become his normal? No matter how much he wanted to believe her, he wasn’t sure he could.

He wondered if his mother could see it on his face. He had a feeling she could, especially with how deep her frown grew as the silence dragged on. “I’m sorry, Keith. I know it’s hard. Frustrating. I never wanted you to have to go through this, but you’ll get used to it.” She brought a hand up to his cheek, and for a moment he wanted to flinch away, but the second the pads of her fingers brushed his skin, he leaned into the touch. “You’ve taken everything else in stride so far. This will be far from the hardest thing you’ve overcome.”

Silently, he nodded. “I should report to Kolivan,” he said before standing up and heading for the door.

* * *

It took days for him to feel anything like himself again, but he was still far from feeling normal. He tried to shake off the fog of exhaustion that lingered in his head by throwing himself into his training. But it was stubborn. Ignoring it didn’t help. Overthinking it didn’t help. So he tried to sweat it out in the training arena, tried to channel it into every blow he landed on the combat droid until he was breathless and barely able to stand upright.

_We’re the only Galra who are capable of carrying pups._

He circled around, dodged a blow from the combat droid’s weapon and landed a hit in the center of its body, sending it toppling to the ground. It righted itself quickly and came at him again. Keith parried the attack. It was messy, and the training blade caught his sleeve.

_Don’t let this affect your focus. It’s a part of who you are. Part of your life. Nothing more._

He growled, pulling back. He rushed forward again, ducking under the droid’s arm and staggering when the hilt of tis blade hit him in the back. Damn – he was being sloppy. He couldn’t focus. He lost his footing and staggered, barely dodging another attack.

_I need something…I don’t know what, but I feel like…you can give it to me…_

The droid was coming for him, but his legs wouldn’t move. They were stuck in place, like someone was holding him there. The droid’s training blade flashed in the light-

And then it froze. Its arms went slack, letting out a mechanical groan as it powered down. “What-“

On the other side of the droid, Kolivan stared him down. And he didn’t look happy. Not that he often did. “Your form is messy,” he said. “You’re overthinking it, not listening to your body and all the training you’ve spent so long pursuing.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re losing your edge, Keith.”

Keith snorted. “I’m not losing anything.”

“What were you thinking about just now? During that fight?”

“Nothing-“

“ _Wrong._ ” Kolivan stared him down. “You were thinking about yourself. About that heat. About what it means for you. You allowed yourself to be consumed by your emotions, and if that had been a real opponent instead of a training droid, you would be dead because of it.” Keith tried to dodge him, to push past, but Kolivan’s hand gripped his arm. “Do you realize how dangerous an alpha can be for an omega? Whether or not you’re in heat?”

Keith froze – suddenly it all came together. Lotor…that scent…those mortifying things he’d said. He ripped his arm out of Kolivan’s grasp. “Nothing _happened,_ ” he snapped. “I can’t help how I felt. I can’t help what I…what I said.” He swallowed, the memory enough to make his stomach churn. “Did…did my mother tell you?”

“I asked,” Kolivan said simply. “I insisted. You must understand-“

“What, do you think I’m gonna…gonna throw myself at Lotor the first chance I get?”

“I know that heats can be powerful. Terrifyingly powerful.” Kolivan didn’t move to touch him again, but he didn’t move out of Keith’s way. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “They can push away all rational thought. They can consume you if you’re unprepared.”

Keith stared at him as Kolivan’s gaze shifted away, a deep frown pulling at his lips. Deeper than usual. The silence only lasted a moment before he looked up at Keith again and insisted, “You need to rest.”

“I need to train,” Keith fired back. “You already said my form was sloppy. That I’m what – _losing my edge?_ ” The words came out dripping with venom. More than he’d meant for them to. “How else am I supposed to get back in shape before the next mission? Ever since that…that _heat,_ it feels like I lost _months_ of strength.”

“It will pass,” Kolivan said. God, he hated those words. “Your form is suffering because your mind is wandering. You’re more focused on your own body than you are on the fight.”  Before Keith could even blink, Kolivan lashed out and grabbed the luxite blade from his hands, and Keith felt the tip of it pressed against his cheek. “Focus, pup. On me.”

Keith stared down the length of the blade, the length of Kolivan’s arm, staring him in the eye. He felt it in his feet first – a low rumble, like a powerful rumbling bassline quaking up his legs, making heat flow from the center of his chest out to his fingertips. His shoulders went slack, and he blinked, watching as Kolivan slowly lowered his arm, and the sound – the _feeling_ – faded away.

“What…what was…”

“It’s called a thrum,” Kolivan said. His voice was softer now, still firm but lacking the edge from before. “A power unique to omegas. A power to calm, to help clear one’s head. It’s possible you’ve felt it before, but I doubt you’ve been so keenly aware of its effects until now.” He flipped the blade in his hand, presenting it to Keith hilt first. “It can also be turned inward, and if used correctly it can sharpen the mind and revitalize the spirit. Take the blade, Keith.”

Keith did, his arms feeling loose. Somehow his head had stopped spinning, his thoughts calming just enough for him to be keenly aware of the feeling of the blade’s hilt against his palm. He stared at it, then glanced up as Kolivan stepped away and out of the training ring.

“Again,” Kolivan said as the training droid straightened up and prepared to attack. Keith lunged.

His muscles were aching, and sweat dripped down his brow, but his mind was clear – he dodged the droid’s first attack easily, ducking under its arm and striking it from behind. There was a lingering thread of that feeling from before, like an echo of that rumbling sitting deep in his gut. He clung to it, tried to remember just how it had felt, protective and grounding.

Alphas…omegas… _pups_ …he pushed all of it away, focused only on the thrum as he flipped his blade around in his hand and launched himself forward. He raised the blade above his head and brought it down squarely in the middle of the droid’s chest, and the light in its eyes flickered and dimmed.

He knelt, panting, and he glanced back at Kolivan just in time to see him nod.

“What did you do to me?” Keith felt himself ask, straightening up and steadying himself on shaky legs. “That…thrum…it’s like Xanax or something.”

He saw confusion flash across Kolivan’s face – of _course_ he wouldn’t know what the hell Xanax was – but it faded a moment later. “I did nothing, Keith,” he finally said. “The fact that it affected you so strongly is only one more indication of how deeply your Galra blood runs through you.” He took the training droid by the back of the neck, dragging it out of the ring. “Go get some rest. That’s an order, Keith.”

“But…but I still have so many questions – I still don’t understand-“

“Rest first,” Kolivan insisted, and for just a moment his expression softened again. “Keith…the answers are here for you. But you must come for them with a clear mind. Otherwise the knowledge would be meaningless. So go rest. You’ll be useless on any mission if you’re half delirious with exhaustion.”

Dammit, Keith hated how right he knew Kolivan was. His limbs were heavy and sore, and no matter how much more he wanted to push himself, it felt like his legs were going to give out from under him any second. So he nodded and turned, dragging himself to his bunk and dropping into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Keith was used to rude awakenings. Hell, there weren’t that many that _didn’t_ seem rude in the Blade. Blaring alarms, a rough hand against his shoulder, orders barked loud enough to make his ears ring – just one of them was unpleasant enough.

He woke up to all three.

“Agents, to your ships!” Kolivan insisted, and Keith was already on his feet and moving before he’d entirely shaken off the sleep.

He was halfway into the damn cockpit of his fighter by he time his vision completely cleared, and Kolivan’s face was the first he saw. “Sir,” he rasped, voice still thick and rough. “What’s-

“Sendak,” Kolivan grunted. Hadn’t even let him finish the question. That wasn’t good. “Attacking the Galra imperial flagship.”

 _Lotor’s ship,_ went unsaid.

“Is he crazy?” Keith blurted, and Kolivan huffed. He might have thought that was a laugh if he didn’t know better – and if the airlock alarm wasn’t blaring over his words.

“He’s growing bolder,” was all Kolivan said, and Keith didn’t need to see his face to know just how _not good_ that was.

He didn’t dwell on it. His energy was better spent focusing on staying in formation anyway.

An attack on the flagship. On Lotor. A direct hit. It was suicide. It was _crazy._ And if they were going to lend backup then it was no small force either. The flagship’s defenses were nothing to sneeze at.

“ _Thirty ticks to jump-_ “ Krolia’s voice crackled over the speaker. “ _No telling what we’ll find on the other side. Be ready for evasive maneuvers._ ”

Keith’s heart pounded. Sendak was a lot of things, but _crazy_ was not one of them. This was strategic. Planned. A calculated move.

“ _…seven, six, five, four-_ “

His hands gripped the controls, fingers itching.

The jump opened a pit in his stomach, just like it always had. The air rushed out of his lungs, back pressed against the seat, knuckles bulging from underneath his gloves – and then as the blinding light receded, it was replaced with an onslaught of voices over the speaker-

“ _-INCOMING FIRE!_ ”

Keith jammed the controls to his right, his ship dipping out of the way of an incoming blast that barely singed the outer hull. They’d been waiting – ready for them. More than Keith had ever thought they’d find. A _swarm_ of Sendak’s forces.

And in the middle of them, weaving between laser blasts and taking down target after target almost _effortlessly,_ was Lotor.

“Lotor’s…fighting?”

“He does like to fight his own battles,” Krolia grunted. “Eyes front – converge on Lotor’s ship and provide cover!”

Like he needed it.

And speak of the devil – “Right on cue,” Lotor’s voice joined the others, and Keith could damn near _hear_ his smirk, even if he did sound breathless. “So good of the Blade to – _nhg_ – join me.”

Keith ignored – or tried to at least – the shiver that ran down his spine at that voice. Now wasn’t the _time,_ dammit. His hormones could wait.

Preferably forever.

This battle, on the other hand, couldn’t.

Keith barely wove out of the way of an incoming barrage, dodging between debris and residual dust clouds as he spun around to get a better angle. Get out of their line of fire, find an opening, cover your own ass – it was instinct more than it was training. But after every near miss, ever lucky shot, his eyes wandered back to Lotor’s ship…

A king fighting on the front lines alongside his soldiers. Maybe that was a Galra thing – but Zarkon had never been so quick to join the fray in person.

But he didn’t have time to linger on that thought – not when he had just half a second to notice another incoming barrage headed straight for Lotor’s ship. He got his name halfway out of his mouth – “ _Lotor-_ “ – before it made contact, catching the fighter right on the flank, exploding in a blinding blast of purple and red.

“ _Lotor’s been hit!_ ” Krolia hissed, followed quickly by a curse as they both watched the ship plummeting toward the nearby planet – caught by its gravitational pull.

“I’m going after him,” Keith insisted.

“ _What?_ ”

“Cover me – I’m headed down to that planet.”

“ _Like hell you are! Keith, get back in formation! Get-_ “

With a goal in mind and his eyes locked on his target, ducking and weaving through the debris and diving into the cloud belt was as easy as pie.

* * *

Alright, positives.

He wasn’t dead. That was good. At least it was a start.

Sendak’s forces hadn’t managed to track his ship or Lotor’s. That was also good. Great, actually.

So maybe his communications with Kolivan and the rest of the Blade were blocked. And maybe he had no way of knowing exactly where Lotor was or if he was even still alive. He was trying to be optimistic.

Not dead, not captured. Positives.

He figured it wasn’t surprising that his scanners hadn’t managed to pinpoint Lotor’s location. If he hadn’t been killed or mortally wounded in the crash – no, _positives,_ dammit – of course he wouldn’t be broadcasting his position to the enemies swarming the planet. He was a lot of things, but stupid, careless, and amateur weren’t on the list.

So Keith would have to work with what he had: the approximate flight path of Lotor’s ship after it had dipped through the atmosphere, calculated by his own ship’s computer; a piss-poor signal from his ship’s sensor tuned to the plasma trail from Lotor’s engines; and his own intuition. All of them were about equally helpful, which wasn’t very. But it was _something._

Once he dipped below the planet’s lower cloud layer, he was surrounded by a murky blue haze that seemed to stick to his ship like slime. He got intermittent glimpses of the ground below – nothing but sprawling gray dunes dotted with craggy black rocks. His ship computers had managed to narrow down about a ten mile radius where Lotor was most likely to have landed. That was much smaller than an entire planet, but still a wide swath to search on his own, especially with visibility as low as it was.

And Lotor was far from predictable.

Communication with anyone off-planet was impossible. Keith knew that without even trying. Kolivan was certain to make sure of that much – blocking all communication was integral to keeping control of the battle. Even if it meant cutting off contact with one of their own. It was an occupational hazard. Keith had known that much since day one.

Besides, Keith figured Lotor wasn’t really a distress signal kind of guy anyway. But he needed something – _anything_ – to point him in the right direction. After all, if Lotor didn’t _want_ to be found, Keith had a feeling he wouldn’t be.

He sighed as he hovered over one of the largest of the rock outcroppings overlooking a steep cliff face. Communication with anyone outside the planet was out of the question – reckless even if it wasn’t impossible – but maybe a short-range signal could get through. Not strong enough to break through the atmosphere and alert Sendak, but enough to reach Lotor if he was listening. Then maybe there was a chance…

Keith was willing to take it. He had to. He opened a communication channel – so low power that it had no chance of reaching off planet even if communications weren’t blocked. It wouldn’t even make it more than a few miles.

Even so, he paused before he said a single word. Broadcasting his identity – let alone Lotor’s – at a time like this was far from a good idea. And he didn’t have any sort of code worked out like he would with the Blade. But there had to be something he could do…

He got an idea. A ridiculous one that made him groan. But maybe it would work.

He swallowed and said, “Alpha…come in alpha.” God, he felt ridiculous. And he didn’t know if he would feel more or less so if it actually _worked._ “Your position is being secured.” At least he sure hoped it was. “If you can hear this…please respond.”

Silence. Static. Keith wasn’t surprised, but he wasn’t happy about it either.

He gripped the controls. “Alpha, if you can hear me, please respond.”

Maybe his communication was too weak, but he didn’t dare make it any stronger. Not when he had no way of knowing whether Sendak’s forces were waiting for him right on the fringes of his limited scanner range.

His head thumped against the console. He did not want to have to report back to Kolivan after all this that he had _lost_ the one real chance at ending this fucking war. He groaned. “Come on man…cut me a break here. At least tell me you’re not dead.”

A few moments of nothing but the thrum of his ship’s idling engines. But then-

“This is alpha. Not dead yet.”

* * *

Lotor’s ship was half buried in sand, the trail it had carved across the ground already covered by the whipping winds. Keith doubted he would have found it at all if it hadn’t been for Lotor’s brief message. It had been enough to send him in the right direction, and after that, it had only taken him about half an hour to hone in on his location.

Within throwing distance of the crash site was a cavern cut into the side of a cliff face, tucked underneath a jagged outcropping. The entrance was partially collapsed, halfway blocked by cracked boulders and obscured by the dense fog that still surrounded him. All things considered, Lotor couldn’t have found a better hiding place.

It did make it a bitch and a half to get into though.

Keith maneuvered his ship up to the edge of the cliff face, with enough distance between it and the cavern entrance to avoid giving away their position if it was spotted. His ship computer made a loud and obnoxious show of telling him just how unbreathable the air was. Like he needed a reminder when it was already obvious just from looking.

He double checked his helmet seal and stepped out of the cockpit, immediately sinking knee-deep into the swirling gray sand. “Shit…” he grunted as he forced his way forward. It felt like walking through pudding, making his thighs burn and sending sweat rolling down his temples as he cut through the deep, unrelenting fog.

He kept his eyes fixed on the cavern entrance, but it seemed to blend so completely into the cliff face that he wondered a few times if it was really there at all. Finally, though, he made it, and he climbed over the line of rocks that blocked his way and hopped down inside.

The cave stretched in front of him into complete darkness. Even with the glow of his suit lighting the way, the blackness curled around him like a clawed hand. But the haze from outside didn’t seem to reach in here, and he swore that the temperature was at least ten degrees warmer than the biting cold outside.

The walls were smooth and shiny. They looked almost wet, but Keith wasn’t quite curious enough to reach out and touch them. Alien caves like this weren’t exactly prime real estate for poking around more than necessary. But at least making headway became easier the deeper inside he went – the layer of thick sand gradually got shallower and shallower, until it was around his ankles, and soon it was nothing but a thin dusting over solid stone.

Then he rounded the corner, and it was like stepping into a different world.

From every inch of the walls and ceiling were coiling orange vines dotted with glowing yellow buds no bigger than his thumbnail. They were draped above his head like Christmas lights, lighting the way in front of him, even criss-crossing underneath his feet as he walked. They were firm under his boots – almost felt like they were made of the same stone as the walls themselves, and they looked like they had etched their way right into the rock face.

An alert popped up in the corner of his helmet screen – the makeup of the air had changed here. Primarily nitrogen, but almost twenty-five percent oxygen. Perfectly breathable. But he didn’t remove his helmet just yet.

He’d come too far to make a careless mistake. Kolivan would never let him forget it if he did.

He kept pushing forward, and the vegetation became thicker the farther he went. The temperature rose until it was almost balmy, and finally he stopped in a wide open cavern, covered floor to ceiling in orange and red vines, bathed in soft yellow light.

And there in the corner, slouched against the wall, was the Emperor himself.

“Lotor,” Keith breathed.

He didn’t look very lively, his chin resting on his chest, hair matted and obscuring his face. The vines underneath him, from what Keith could see, weren’t the same color as their neighbors – instead, they were stained a deep violet.

Blood.

Fuck.

Two steps later, and Lotor’s eyes snapped open. Keith had all of half a second to feel relieved before the flash of a blade whipped across his field of vision, and Lotor was on his feet. His teeth were bared, his eyes gleaming, a dagger clutched in his fist.

“Lotor!” he choked again. “Stop – it’s me-“

But Lotor barely seemed to hear him. His legs were quivering, like he could barely hold himself up, and he was panting as he leaned against the wall. But his gaze was fixed on Keith, the blade in his hand glinting in the yellow light.

Keith raised his hands. “It’s me,” he said softly, and slowly, he reached up to remove his helmet.

God, as much as he’d wanted Lotor to forget everything about him after the whole fiasco in the Castle, he _really_ hoped the emperor remembered him now.

“It’s Keith,” he said, like that helped. Like it mattered. “I sent the signal. I came to help.”

Lotor’s teeth were clenched, his blade still raised. But his arm was shaking like it weighed at least twice what it did. Finally, he let it drop against the cavern wall. The edge caught against the vines on its way down, leaving a groove in the surface of them as Lotor slumped and slid back down to the floor.

His other hand pressed against his side, and that was when Keith realized the gash in his armor went deep, like it had been ripped open. Violet blood dripped over Lotor’s knuckles.

Keith swallowed. “The Blade is still fighting Sendak in orbit around the planet. I came to find you…to bring you back once it’s over.”

Lotor’s eyes tracked their way up to Keith’s face, sluggishly. “Keith,” he groaned, and a small, almost bitter smile slipped onto his face. “Ah right…my fellow half-blood, hm?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

The only sound that filled the next few moments was Lotor’s ragged breathing and the shuffle of Keith’s armor as he knelt beside him. “I don’t suppose Kolivan’s been training you as a field medic, has he?”

“No…but I still might be able to help.”

“You think?” Gingerly, Lotor lifted his hand, and blood poured onto the ground beneath him as he gritted his teeth. “There was a pulse-healer on my ship that could at least stop the bleeding.”

“I don’t suppose it’s still working after the crash.”

“Last I saw it, it was burning up in the atmosphere as my ship broke apart,” Lotor said with a sneer. “So I presume not.”

“Right…” He drew a careful and measured breath. “Okay…we’ll do this the old-fashioned way. I’m gonna need a couple of things from my ship. Think you can manage not to die before I get back?”

“I’ve made it this far,” Lotor sighed.

“Yeah…okay, so don’t die.” Helpful. “I’ll be back.”

He had to stop himself from running out of the cavern – he wouldn’t be any good to anybody if he tripped on the damn roots and broke an ankle – and by the time he made it back to his ship it was half-buried in a newly formed dune. Helpful in the grand scheme of things, he figured. If Sendak’s forces came looking for them they would be damn hard to spot.

But it sure made getting his supplies a hell of a lot more of a pain in the ass.

The emergency kit was still fastened securely under the seat in the cockpit, thank God. He was going to have to improvise enough as it was. As least he’d have some supplies to make it a little easier.

Easy was a relative term. But not letting the Emperor die on his watch was a start.

Lotor was right where he’d left him, still breathing from the looks of it, albeit raggedly. Keith knelt next to him and began to unpack.

“This is gonna suck,” he said, and when Lotor leveled him with a curious stare, he held up the blowtorch and gave it a quick test ignition. Fully fueled and working. Perfect.

When Keith pulled out a smaller knife – his luxite blade wouldn’t hold the heat well enough and was much too big for what he needed – Lotor let out a sigh. “I’m assuming you’ll need to get this damn armor out of the way.”

Keith paused. Oh. He hadn’t thought of that. There was a gaping hole in the plate over Lotor’s ribs, but he would need space. “Can you…”

Lotor was already unclipping his chestplate and letting it fall to the ground with a grimace. His flightsuit hadn’t fared much better than his armor; it was shredded and bloody all the way down his side. “Just give me something to bite down on,” Lotor groaned. “And please tell me you have steady hands.”

“My hands are fine,” Keith said, pointedly avoiding his eye.

Maybe if he didn’t look straight at him, Lotor wouldn’t know that he’d never done this before in his life. He’d seen it done, sure. He’d heard the screams, smelled the burning flesh and blood and managed not to gag. But doing it…that was something different.

He reached for the hilt of his blade, unclipping it and pulling out the length of leather-like material that held it to his belt. He folded that up and handed it to Lotor, who promptly slid it between his teeth.

Steady hands. He could promise that much.

At least he hoped so.

He had to.

He held the knife blade in the flame until it was good and hot – not quite glowing, but giving off enough heat to make him second-guess himself. He glanced down at the growing stain of purple under Lotor’s legs, at the spreading pallor on his cheeks.

He had to.

Lotor didn’t flinch, but looked away when Keith moved forward with the blade. Then he paused. It wasn’t hesitation, but an idea. An impossible idea.

Carefully, he pressed a hand against Lotor’s chest and closed his eyes. _Space Xanax,_ he thought, and tried to remember what it had felt like. The low rumble in his feet. The soothing presence in his mind. The _thrum._

He felt it first in his fingers.

It spread up his arm at the same time that it flowed down his knuckles, like honey dripping over his fingertips. It vibrated and echoed in his chest, in his stomach, in his head, and he could feel Lotor’s eyes on him. He could feel the heat of the blade in his hand. But he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. All that mattered – all he bothered zeroing in on – was the sound of Lotor’s breathing beginning to slow.

He opened his eyes again, finding Lotor’s gaze softer, calmer, more…open. He flattened his palm against the emperor’s chest and in one fluid motion, pressed the flat edge of the hot blade against Lotor’s skin.

The smell was the same. The scream was the same. And after it was over, he stumbled back to the entrance of the cavern to bring up the meager contents of his stomach into the sand.

* * *

Lotor slept.

His ribs ached. His skin burned. His entire body felt like…well, like he’d been in a near-fatal crash just a few vargas before.

He was tired. Who could blame him?

He managed to open his eyes, rolling his shoulders in a half-decent attempt to stretch out his spine and grimacing when it tugged on the jagged wound on his side. It wouldn’t do to undo all of Keith’s work and rip it back open. Especially not if it would necessitate cauterizing it all over again.

If he could avoid that, he would do so happily.

Sighing, he glanced over at the edge of the cavern where Keith was leaning against the wall. He didn’t move a muscle – Lotor could have mistaken him for a statue if he didn’t know better. Until he yawned.

“How long was I asleep?” Lotor called, and Keith forced his mouth shut and turned to face him.

A beat, and then he said, “A couple of hours. Ah…vargas. I’m not totally sure.” He glanced back down the corridor that led to the outside. The howling winds were just barely audible, whistling by, no doubt burying both of their ships. “No sign of Kolivan or the rest of the Blade yet.”

He sounded anxious. Just barely so. Lotor couldn’t blame him – he was very much looking forward to getting off of this planet too.

“It’s not surprising,” Keith continued. “They won’t risk sending a search party until they know the planet is clear of Sendak’s forces. It takes time. But they’ll come.” His fingers curled against his armor. “I know they will.”

“I’m sure,” Lotor croaked. Stars, his throat felt about as dry as the dunes outside the cavern. “I don’t suppose you have any water.”

“Uh – yeah, actually.” Keith was already reaching for a thermos and bringing it over to him. When Lotor brought it to his lips it felt like heaven. “Not a whole lot. But enough to get us through.” He nodded at the thermos when Lotor tried to hand it back. “You need it more than I do. You lost a lot of blood.”

“And if someone comes looking for us who _isn’t_ on our side, you’ll be of much more use.”

Keith glanced down at it before turning and striding back to the other side of the cavern. Without taking it.

Stubborn.

Lotor drew another sip and wedged the thermos between two of the roots by his leg. Seemed they had more uses than simply digging into his backside and shoulders. “You’re a man of few words when nobody is in imminent danger of bleeding to death.”

Keith shrugged. “Nothing to say.”

“Really?” He let the silence stretch on for just a tick more. “You’re worried your compatriots won’t come looking.”

“If they don’t,” Keith said, fingers clenching around the hilt of his luxite blade, “I’ll dig out my ship and we’ll take our chances. But I’ll like the odds better if I can get in contact with Kolivan first.” He studied the blade, tapping his finger against the deadly sharpened tip of it. “He won’t just leave us down here.”

“I’m sure.” Lotor leaned back with a sigh. “So we wait…either for word from the Blade of Marmora, or starvation. Or for Sendak to come and relieve both of our heads from our shoulders.”

“Or we try to escape the planet on my ship and risk getting blown out of the sky.” Keith’s gaze wandered pointedly to Lotor’s side. “Again.”

“Interesting odds.”

“Do Galra really do that?” Keith asked, and when Lotor gave him a questioning look, he ran his fingers across his own neck. “Beheading. Is that a…thing.”

“Not any more or less than any other form of execution.”

Keith made a noise – a slight hum of interest mixed with distaste – and sat on his haunches on a particularly dense patch of roots. Lotor couldn’t help but watch him, studying his face. Keith looked so much… _less_ Galra than Lotor did himself. And he had been told more times than he could count just how ­ _un-Galra_ he was, in more ways than only appearance.

Lotor couldn’t help but muse, “You really know almost nothing about Galra culture, do you? Outside of the Blade, that is.”

Keith didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed. Just…regretful. “I didn’t know I was. Not until I found the Blade of Marmora. The whole time I was growing up, I…I thought I was human. I just figured I wasn’t very good at it.”

“What you did earlier – do you know what that was at least?”

Lotor watched as Keith carefully perched himself on a knot of roots nearby, staring down at his hands. “A…thrum,” he finally said after a pregnant pause. “That’s what Kolivan called it. I’m not sure if I did it right…not sure if I even _can_ do it right. I was just trying to keep you from moving too much or freaking out.”

“Whether or not you did it _right,_ isn’t really the correct question. The fact that you did it at all is…” A beat later, Keith’s eyes darted up to meet his. “Well, fascinating, to say the least.”

“Why? Because I’m half human? Can you…can you not do it?”

“No, I can’t. But it’s not because I’m only half Galra. Only omegas can produce a thrum.”

“And you’re…” Keith swallowed. “An alpha.”

It was not a question. Lotor smiled. “You’re learning.”

“I’ve always done that fast. Always kinda had to. Especially lately.”

“Yes, I suppose a heat would be very…jarring. Given the circumstances.”

Keith’s face blazed red. “R-right…that…”

“Would you prefer I forget you throwing yourself at me?” Keith didn’t answer, but he looked awfully keen on staring the rocks at his feet into submission. Lotor let out a sigh. It seemed he’d have to take a more…tactful approach. “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of, you know. And besides, shame is a waste of your time. As is hoping I’ll forget what happened – I happen to have a very good memory.”

The silence that stretched on between them was heavy, and it was about at stubborn as the young half-blood in front of him. Keith didn’t seem eager to break it himself – too busy avoiding Lotor’s gaze – so Lotor did it himself: “Do you know why my most trusted generals are all half-blooded?”

Keith studied the ridges in his armor. “I guess because you feel a sort of…kinship with them?”

“Because I know they’re clever. Fearless. That they’ll do what needs to be done without flinching. People like us…like you and I…we have to be to survive in this universe.” Keith barely glanced at him, just for a half a tick at most. Lotor grasped onto that sliver of eye contact and held it as best he could. “You remind me of them a bit, actually. Acxa at least.”

His brows arched under that messy mane of hair of his. “I…do?”

“She would have cauterized this wound just the same,” Lotor told him with a smirk and a nod down at his side. “Though I doubt she would have bothered doing anything to try and make me any more comfortable first. So I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“I couldn’t just do nothing if there was something I could do to help. And if you started screaming you could have given away our position.”

“Now _that_ reminds me of Acxa.”

The eye contact that Lotor had fought so hard to hold began to slip away again. “I don’t think I’d make a very good general,” Keith mused, and Lotor rose a brow.

“Oh?” he said. “Why not?”

“You _know_ why not.”

“Enlighten me.” He gestured at the gash in his armor. “Take pity – I nearly died today.”

Keith sighed, but it sounded more like an exasperated groan. “What kind of general would just…throw himself at the enemy without a second thought?”

“So you consider me the enemy once again?” Lotor fired back.

“N-no! But-“

“I know what you meant.” More than that – he was painfully aware. Even if he wasn’t an omega, it was obvious just from the look on Keith’s face. The embarrassment, shame, regret, all mixing together into something that Lotor found painfully familiar. “Sure you don’t think that something so trivial makes you a liability to the Blade of Marmora or anyone else.”

Keith blinked at him. “Trivial?”

“In the long run.” He shrugged. “Consider the fact that the Galra – omegas and alphas together – have survived for millenia. If being an omega was truly so crippling, do you really think they would have lived long enough for you to be born at all?”

“I…” Lotor watched as he swallowed. “I…I guess…”

Lotor let out a long sigh – half because it was exhausting watching Keith grapple with the memory of what had happened on that castle, and half because it helped relieve the pain in his side. Just a bit. “Besides,” he said, “All else aside, you’d make a spectacular general. Do you know how I know that?”

There was a flash in Keith’s eyes. “How?”

“Because you aren’t Galra.”

“What are you talking about?” Keith demanded, indignant. “Of course I am – I’m as much Galra as you are!”

Ah, there it was – the fire in his gaze. It made Lotor’s lips pull back into a grin. “True – but then, neither of us are _Galra._ And at the same time, I’m not Altean and you aren’t human.” Keith’s brow pinched. It seemed he didn’t quite understand – Lotor couldn’t fault him for that though. It had taken him millenia to realize the truth.

He sighed and let his head fall back against the cavern wall. “We’re something different, you and I. _Half-bloods._ Hybrids. Whatever term you please. We’ll never be Galra, and you’ll never be human.”

Keith blinked, confusion rolling over his face like a fog. “You lost a lot more blood than I thought,” he finally muttered.

He was close enough – just barely – for Lotor to reach out grasp his wrist.

“ _Hey-_ “

“Ah…” Lotor mused, thumb running across Keith’s gloved palm. “Seems I was right.”

“About what?”

There was a flush in Keith’s face. Odd. But he didn’t resist when Lotor pulled off his glove.

Now that his curiosity was piqued, he had to sate it. And if he could show Keith a glimpse of the truth in the process, perhaps it was for the best. Keith’s eyes tracked every movement of Lotor’s hand as he searched for what he’d felt before, just under the skin. It wasn’t visible to the eye, but it was there – a firm bulge nestled amongst the tendons of his palm.

Lotor centered his thumb over it and _pressed,_ hard, and Keith let out what Lotor could only assume was a curse as he yanked his hand away.

But Lotor saw them, shiny and stained red where they extended from Keith’s fingertips. Shorter than most Galra’s, but unmistakable.

“Wh…what the…” Keith’s eyes were wide, his words breathless with shock and tinged with an edge of pain. “What the hell…are…”

“You’re more than the sum of your parts,” Lotor told him, reaching out again to tap the tip of his finger against one of Keith’s pointed claws. “Just as I am…just as the rest of my generals are. Just as I hope that this new universe can be.”

The yellow glow surrounding them reflected off of the whites of Keith’s eyes, giving them an almost eerie golden tint as he stared at his fingers. He flexed his palm, barely grimacing as the points retracted again.

The moment was short-lived – Lotor noticed it ending before Keith did. Then again, it was hard for him to miss the stabbing pain in his side and the rush of warmth between his fingers. It was familiar, agonizingly so, and he inwardly cursed when he looked down and saw violet dripping down over his armor.

“Shit,” Keith breathed. “ _Shit –_ you must have reopened your wound-“

Lotor would have thought that much was obvious.

Keith stood so quickly that Lotor barely saw it. Damn his senses – as dulled as they were from the blood loss to begin with, his head was already starting to swim. Keith was saying… _something._ Words, he assumed. But they sounded like a distant roll of thunder more than anything close to intelligible.

His vision was fading, the edges closing in.

 _Quiznak,_ he did not want to die here. Not like this. How disappointing. How _mediocre._

“You’re not gonna die here,” Keith insisted, his voice echoing. Oh, had he said as much out loud?

There was something oddly comforting about Keith’s stubbornness, even if Lotor was more sure with every passing second that his insistence was misplaced.

A shame. He would have loved to see what kind of general Keith could have become.

It was the last thought he had before his consciousness faded completely.


	4. Chapter 4

“…lost a striking amount of blood…surprised he…managed to survive…”

Voices. Hushed, urgent voices, muffled by what sounded like water swirling around his ears. They faded in and out, distant and garbled – Lotor could barely make out a few words at a time, and when he opened his eyes to try and find the source, his vision blurred and his eyes burned so badly he had to close them again.

His skin was cool. It felt like he was floating, gentle pressure nudging against every inch of his bare skin. There was no stone under his legs or metal against his back, but when he tried to move his finger it met the cool resistance of liquid.

He _was_ floating. Submerged. Encapsulated in cool, soothing liquid that enveloped him so completely it felt like not an inch of him was missed.

“We couldn’t keep waiting for them to retreat…I was looking for your signal, but-“

“You did well. He’s alive, and so are you. The fact that neither of you managed to die down on that planet is frankly astounding.” The speaker let out a sigh, or it sounded that way at least. Lotor could feel his consciousness slipping, urging him back into darkness no matter how much he fought against it.

When he clawed his way back up again it seemed like just a tick or two later, but the voices were gone. He supposed he had no way of knowing for sure just how much time had passed – it could have been a phoeb for all he knew. Despite doubting how much good it would do, he forced his eyes open again.

Light. That was all he got – gentle fuschia light diffusing through the haze before him. He tried to move, tried to reach out and touch it, but all that got him was an ache and burn in his arm. The limb felt a thousand times more heavy than it had any right to. Unmovable.

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but it was only then that he realized the tube passing over his lips. His entire mouth was numb, from his tongue all the way back to his throat, and a cold, sharp sort of realization bloomed in the pit of his stomach when he realized that the tub must have passed all the way back and down.

Breathing for him. Keeping him alive.

He was sure now that if he ever did manage to reach out in front of him, he would meet nothing but a clear barrier.

He was enclosed in a pod, cut off from his senses and his autonomy – at the mercy of whomever might be outside of it.

The Blade of Marmora, he wondered? Or Sendak? The voices from before had been too muffled to recognize – if they had even been real at all, and not some sort of fever-dream brought on by blood loss and whatever drugs were being pumped through his system.

Well, he wasn’t dead. Whether that was a good or bad thing had yet to be seen.

“Sir-“ Another voice, still unrecognizable. “His heart rate is increasing.”

Something unintelligible, and then a shuffle of movement. A shadow cutting through the fuchsia fog. He forced his eyes open, tried to make out a face. It burned.

“Vital signs?” This voice was closer, clearer. Not Sendak, but Lotor couldn’t place it otherwise.

“Stable – beta wave activity increasing, blood pressure elevating. He’s awake sir.” A beat. “I…I believe he’s staring at you.”

Despite the fact that his eyes refused to focus, Lotor could feel that gaze. He sensed them studying him in the silence. Finally, a huff, and then- “Drain the pod.”

“Sir-“

“Drain the pod, Lonvuk.”

“Y-yes. Of course, sir.”

The hiss and bubble that came next was deafening, forcing his eyes closed again and making his entire body seize against the force of the liquid being washed away, leaving his body dripping and heavy. He sagged against the back of the pod, the blunt, padded metal hooked underneath his arms and between his legs supporting his weight where his own legs couldn’t.

When he opened his eyes again, the fuchsia haze was gone, and his vision began to clear.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Kolivan said, “Emperor Lotor.”

* * *

His recovery was quick and – for the most part, relatively speaking at least – painless. The wound in his side had mostly closed by the time he flopped out of the healing pod, as graceless and wobbly-legged as a newborn horn-tailed korvuk. The soreness and stiffness that permeated every corner of him faded far too slowly for his liking, but in the grand scheme, it could have been much worse.

He could have been _dead._ And he had yet to find a healing pod that could cure that. Even Altean ones came up just short.

Three quintants he’d been in there, floating in that fuchsia haze of nothingness. Three and a _half_ if he was being specific. He tried not to dwell on it – _tried,_ and promptly failed. How could he ignore three and a half quintants spent floating in a pod his tentative grasp on his empire slipping through his fingers?

He was barely dry and dressed when he insisted that Kolivan fill him in on every detail of what he’d missed. Starting with Sendak.

Kolivan could frown with the best of him, and he did at the first mention of that name. Even though he seemed to have seen it coming. “He slipped away,” he sighed. “Despite our best efforts.”

“And his whereabouts now?” Lotor probed. Oh, he knew the Blade was fond of their debriefs, combing through every piece of information, every calculated move to try and pin down any mistakes, refine their plans. There was value in that. But Lotor was sore, and he didn’t much care about what had already passed – not unless it was likely to affect how they would move forward.

Kolivan nodded, as if he understood, and said, “We suspect he’s secured a base somewhere in the Vale system, far beyond the outskirts of Galra territory…But so far our attempts to collect intelligence on its exact location hasn’t been very…” He huffed. “Fruitful.”

“It will be.” He held Kolivan’s eye. “I’ll make sure of it. The Blade of Marmora pledged their allegiance to me when I ascended the throne, and now I’ll make sure that favor is returned.” He hated how slow he stood – even with his injuries closed and scarring, his joints still protested and his muscles reminded him of how much blood he’d really lost. “Sendak will not terrorize this empire any longer. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Kolivan seemed to consider his next words carefully: “With…all due respect, _Emperor –_ I have been unluck enough to spend three quintants in a healing pod myself, and I wonder if you might want to rest before-“

“With all due _respect,_ ” Lotor fired back, in a tone that Kolivan could obviously tell meant that arguing would be a waste, “I can rest once Sendak is in chains and rotting in the belly of the Galra imperial flagship.”

“Very well.”

A smart answer. Lotor acknowledged it with a nod. But there was something else, another question nagging at the back of his mind, and he couldn’t help but ask.

“Where is Keith?”

Surprise flitted across Kolivan’s face. “Keith – he…well, he was unharmed.” That sounded like relief in his voice, well-masked, but there to the trained ear. “Returned covered in blood.”

“My blood.”

“ _Covered_ in it.”

As if he needed a reminder of how close he’d come to death’s door.

“Some might consider that the sign of a battle well fought,” he offered.

“And he did fight well,” Kolivan agreed with a sage nod. “That much was clear, at least until he dipped down below the atmosphere. After that…” He shot Lotor a _look,_ one that he couldn’t quite gauge. “I have no idea what happened down on the surface.”

Just what was he insinuating? Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with their little _incident_ on the Castle of Lions. Just how clear did he need to make himself that he was above taking _advantage?_ “He saved my life,” he said. “That’s what happened. Cauterized my wound without hesitation – did he tell you that?”

“He said he did what he had to,” Kolivan said. “To keep you from bleeding out.”

Lotor’s claws played across the sealed wound on his ribs. “You never answered my question,” he said. “Where is he?” Kolivan eyed him, eyes narrowing. “To thank him – surely you don’t think I can neglect to do that much. He did save the emperor’s life, after all.”

Kolivan let out a long sigh. “He’s in the training deck,” he finally said. “Has been since you returned. Despite the fact that I’ve done all but order him to rest – the boy seems intent on running himself into the ground.”

“Perhaps you _should_ order him to his bunk,” Lotor offered. “As stubborn as he seems that may be the only way. But far be it from me to tell you how to run your operation. I promised you freedom to operate independent of the empire, and I don’t intend to become a liar.” He glanced down the hall…the training deck wasn’t far, and it beckoned. “I ought to thank him properly.”

He could practically _feel_ Kolivan bristle, and he would have been a fool to pretend he didn’t know _precisely_ why. So even though he hadn’t said anything quite yet, Lotor turned on his heel to face the leader of the Blade again. “You’ll have to let go of your preconceptions about alphas one day, Kolivan.” He offered a placating smile. “I let go of mine about omegas far before I ever took the throne.”

Kolivan’s back straightened, almost imperceptibly. As if he was trying to make himself look taller. Like he’d forgotten he already towered over Lotor.

Some urges were too ingrained into evolution to fight, he supposed.

“My preconceptions,” he said. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully – smart. “…are not derived purely from hearsay and rumors.”

“From my father then. It’s alright – you can say it.”

He could see that twitch of Kolivan’s lip where he fought the urge to bare his teeth. “From your father.”

“I’m not my father, or have you forgotten.”

“You are…an improvement,” Kolivan relented.

Lotor let out a sigh. “It’s easy to say so in the abstract…but you haven’t exactly made it a secret that you don’t like me _spending time_ with your…protégé.” He regarded Kolivan closely. “You saw the same spark in him that I did, didn’t you? All that potential…he would be the perfect choice to lead the Blade of Marmora one day.”

“He has a lot to learn,” was all Kolivan said in reply.

Lotor couldn’t argue that point. He didn’t try. “He does,” he said instead. “About more than he realizes. More than you realize even.” He gave Kolivan a nod. “I appreciate your bluntness. We could use more of that in this new empire. People should respect their leaders – not fear them. At least that’s what I would prefer anyway.”

He turned and headed for the door, but before he passed the threshold, he added, “I don’t intend on making anyone loyal to me fear me more than they respect me. Not you, not any of the Blade, and not Keith.”

Content that he’d said more than enough, he strode down the hall with his hand pressed lightly over his newest scar.

* * *

Keith’s muscles ached – no, they were _killing_ him. Enough that each movement took every ounce of his strength. But he didn’t care. He didn’t stop – Kolivan wasn’t here to order him to. Neither was Krolia.

So he tightened his body again, ignoring the way it protested. When the next projectile came hurtling toward him, he moved to dodge-

It hit him in the shoulder, and he cursed.

Finally, he sat down in the middle of the ring. “End exercise,” he panted, and it felt like waving a damn white flag.

“Impressive,” came a voice from the entranceway. It was familiar – deep and smooth. Keith knew exactly who it was before he even looked up, but he wasn’t expecting that _smile._

No, a smirk was more accurate. Lotor was _smirking_ at him.

“Please,” the emperor said, one hand raised as he unhurriedly sauntered his way. “No need to get up on my account. Spare your muscles the effort.”

Keith pushed himself to his feet anyway, frowning as he did. “I can stand just fine.”

“I’m certain,” Lotor sighed. _Sighed,_ like he was more tired than he let on. But Keith had had that feeling about him for a while. He watched as Lotor stopped a few feet away from him, eying him carefully. Suddenly he was painfully aware of how _sweaty_ he was. “I don’t want to interrupt your training, though I get the feeling Kolivan would like nothing more than for you to focus on something else.”

Keith let his shoulders fold forward. “I’m fine,” he said, even though Lotor hadn’t even asked him if he was. “Kolivan thinks I should take it easy after that last mission, just like he thought I should take it easy after that whole…heat…thing…” He couldn’t bear to look Lotor in the eye as he said _that._ “But I’m _fine._ ”

“Again,” Lotor said, “I’m certain. I’m not Kolivan, and I’m certainly not here to _mother_ you. But I am here to thank you.”

Of course. For the saving his life thing – even though he felt like he’d managed to do pretty damn little except for hauling Lotor’s unconscious body back to base. But he was alive, and maybe that counted for something at least.

“I wasn’t just gonna let you bleed out down there,” he said, like that wasn’t obvious. As he spoke, he pressed his thumb against the flesh of his palm – barely even realizing he was doing it.

Lotor noticed, though – his eyes sharpened. “How…fitting,” he said, his lip curling over his teeth.

Okay. Keith could bite. “Fitting?”

“You being the one to save me,” Lotor said breezily. “The half-Galra omega…one who half the Empire wouldn’t have bet on if their lives depended on it. And yet you carried me to safety like it was nothing.” He laughed, warmly, something flitting across his eyes that Keith couldn’t hope to place, but it made his stomach flip anyway.

When Lotor reached out and pressed his thumb against Keith’s palm, his heart stuttered. He expected another press, another push of the pad of his finger to extend those claws that Keith still didn’t believe were real, but nothing came but a gentle brush of the fabric of Lotor’s glove. “Do they still hurt?”

“Ha…wha…”

“Your fingers,” Lotor said. “Those claws. They can be…sore as they come in.”

“N-no…no, they’re…” His throat was dry. He felt…hot. Flushed. And not from the exertion. What the _hell?_ “They’re fine.”

“Then perhaps-“ Lotor released his hand. “-you could show me how you use them in action, hm?” Before Keith could ask him just what the hell he meant, Lotor turned and took a few steps to the other side of the training ring.

He…he couldn’t mean…There was no way-

“You almost died,” he blurted. “You were out for-“

“Far too long,” Lotor said, stretching his neck. “I never liked sitting idle for more than a few vargas at a time. Patience may be a virtue, but I can’t afford to get rusty.” His back was still to Keith, his hair falling down over his shoulders.

Keith had always thought it was white, but it was closer to _platinum._ The light glinted off of it as Lotor rolled his shoulders.

“What do you say?” the emperor proposed, shooting a glance his way. “Do you have enough energy to spare with a fellow half-Galra? Not to the death, I assure you.”

Keith watched him extend one long arm across his body, hooking his other underneath it and stretching it out with a soft grunt. He didn’t move like other Galra – like Krolia or Kolivan or the rest of the Blade. There was something…

The only word Keith could conjure up was _alien._ There was something _alien_ about him. And yet something strangely familiar too. He was different from everyone else Keith knew, but then again, Keith had always been different from them too.

He swallowed and squared his shoulders. Lotor huffed out a laugh. “Good,” he said – _purred._ “I’ll even let you have the first move – consider it repayment for pulling me from the jaws of death.”

That almost made Keith want to laugh – who _talked_ that way? Well…alien space royalty, maybe. But he didn’t bother questioning that. Instead he summoned up what strength he had left – which was more than he’d thought – and lunged.

There was something…almost graceful about the way Lotor fought. It was different from Kolivan and Sendak and Allura. Not Galra, but not Altean either. He looked more like a dancer than a soldier, dodging and weaving so easily that he barely broke a sweat. It was like he could see Keith’s attacks coming from a mile away – like a game of chess where he was always three, four, five moves ahead.

Keith didn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. He knew damn well, and he didn’t care. That wasn’t the point.

Lotor grinned at him. “Come on,” he said. There was a puff of breathlessness in his voice that made pride swell in Keith’s chest. Even if it was probably just thanks to the three days in stasis. But even so, Lotor extended a hand, like an invitation, and crooked his fingers almost playfully. “There’s more in you than that – don’t you want to show me?”

Keith huffed and pulled his arm back, ready to throw another punch, but instead of dodging this time Lotor reached up and stopped Keith’s fist with his palm. “Ah-ah,” he chided. “Fists…that’s not how you want to fight.”

It was the only way he knew how to fight – without his luxite blade, he fell back on his instincts from years before the Blade, before the Galra, before the Blue Lion. But this feeling… _pulsing_ in his chest like a second heartbeat. Maybe it was a different kind of instinct. A deeper one.

Lotor could have taken the chance to land a blow of his own, but he didn’t bother. He hadn’t, not once since they’d started this. He had done nothing but dodge, smirking the whole time, like he was enjoying the show.

And Keith…he _was_ the show.

He glanced down at his hand, still balled up in a tight fist against Lotor’s palm. It had hurt before, but the pain had paled in comparison to the sheer _shock_ at the sight of claws extending from his fingertips. Both had faded quickly when he’d dug those claws into Lotor’s lapel and dragged him to the ship in an unconscious heap.

He swallowed, flexing his muscles in a way that he never could before. It was like his body had remembered something crucial the moment Lotor had pressed against his palm and coaxed them out the first time. And Lotor’s eyes _flashed_ – blazing and ecstatic – when Keith opened his fist and let his claws scrape against the emperor’s wrist.

“Yes,” Lotor breathed, beaming at him. “ _Yes._ ”

Air rushed between his fingers as he _swiped_ instead of hit, the deadly points of those claws whizzing past Lotor’s ear, barely missing. He didn’t even flinch. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

Keith wondered if he enjoyed it too. Was enjoy the right word? It was an addictive feeling, making his palms tingle. It was intense, _hot._

“Beautiful,” Lotor praised as Keith swung again and missed. Keith’s vision was like a tunnel – honed in on the emperor’s face, on his _target._ “Again. _Again._ ”

They went back and forth – swiping, missing, _praising_ – until Keith could barely breathe. His chest was burning and Lotor was sweating and he didn’t _want_ to stop, but his legs made him anyway. They wobbled and gave out, so heavy that he felt like he’d just run a marathon.

Lotor knelt in front of him, skin shining and teeth glinting in the light. “Spectacular,” he breathed.

Before Keith knew what else to do, he was kissing him.

The scent hit his nostrils – hot and heady – and his hands were reaching out on their own, grabbing Lotor by the shoulders and dragging him in and smashing their lips together so hard he was sure it would bruise. It was the first time – the only time – that Lotor didn’t dodge.

And it was _amazing._

It was _perfect._

It was…

_Oh god._

He scrambled away, his head spinning and his stomach doing obnoxious flips until he could barely tell which way was up. “I…I-I…I’m sorry…I…” He pawed at his own mouth, like he could wipe away what had just happened.

First a _heat,_ and now this? He was headed for the executioner’s block for sure. Or whatever Galra had instead.

Lotor, though…he barely moved. Except to bring one hand up to press the tips of his fingers against his bottom lip. Did Galra even kiss? Would it make things better or a thousand times worse if they didn’t?

“Fascinating,” he sighed, smiling as he did. “And here I’d thought you were all out of surprises. I do so _love_ being proven wrong.”

* * *

“That’s him…the head of the emperor’s personal guard.”

Galra were bad at being discreet. Keith had known that a long time. He could feel their eyes on him as he passed, but that didn’t bother him. Neither did the way they kept on talking about him like he wasn’t even there.

“He’s…shorter than he looked in all the broadcasts.”

“ _Shut up –_ don’t let him _hear_ you say that.”

He was used to it. Almost a year serving on the Galra imperial flagship could do that.

He had to admit though, there was something really satisfying about watching the two guards straighten up considerably when he passed. The whispering, he noticed, had stopped. And it didn’t start up again as he headed down the corridor.

Lotor was right where he’d expected him to be, hunched in his study with his hair pulled back off of his shoulders. His brow pinched as he studied the star map that he had to have memorized by now. “Are the Blade in position?” he asked the moment the door slid closed behind Keith, not even looking up at him.

“Everything’s going according to plan,” Keith told him. “Kolivan has his agents positioned all across the sector – Sendak won’t have an escape route this time.”

“Hm.” Lotor straightened his back, rolling his neck. Keith could practically hear the joints pop from where he was standing. “Excellent. All we have to do now is wait. And when the time comes, we will strike decisively, and finally put an end to Sendak’s needlessly destructive attempt to gain power.”

It felt strange – sitting around doing nothing when the final battle was so close. But Lotor was right. There was nothing else they could do.

“You look tired,” he said, and that made Lotor arch a brow his way.

“Blunt,” he mused, smirking.

Like that was the most _blunt_ thing Keith had ever said to him. The rumors that circulated through some parts of the empire got pretty damn creative, but there were some that were true.

Lotor drew a slow breath as he stepped toward him, hands lightly clasped behind his back and his head canted Keith’s way. “I happen to find that an excellent quality.”

“For your personal guard?”

“For anyone.”

Lotor’s hand skimmed up his arm, and with the door closed Keith didn’t bother fighting the urge to lean into it. Instinctively, a rumble rose up in his chest – a deep and gentle thrum in response to Lotor’s touch, and he could feel the tension in Lotor’s shoulders start to melt away.

He could do a little better than that.

“It might help,” he said, “If you try and get your mind off it. It’ll be at least a quintant before it’s time to move.”

“And just what did you have in mind?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, staring down at Lotor’s hand instead of meeting his eye. “I mean…I can think of a lot of things that would be better than just pacing around here.”

He still wasn’t great at this…the whole…flirting thing. Then again he didn’t exactly make it a habit to practice out in front of the entire empire. He was Lotor’s guard first. And second…

Well, that had come after. It was still taking some getting used to.

He kissed like he fought, though – and like he ruled over his people. With purpose and confidence. And the _smell…_ he smelled like spice and dust. It made Keith’s heart pound just breathing it in.

Lotor chuckled when he noticed Keith’s nose pressed against the crook of his neck. “Breathe deep, love,” he said with a grin. “You see, this is part of the reason I never doubted your appointment to my personal guard – you’re always so full of excellent ideas.”

“And I’ve caught three assassination attempts before they ever got within sight of you,” Keith reminded him.

“You see? It was an excellent decision on my part.”

Keith hummed in agreement as he pressed Lotor down against the nearby armchair. Tomorrow they could think about what it would take to finally bring an end to this fight. But for now they had some time to think and breathe, and time to let the guards keep right on whispering to their hearts’ content.

 


End file.
